Crowned By the Wolf Prince (Ravenous Royals #6)

Prologue

Kieran

“Do you think he has made his decision, cousin?” Lucan asks as we race past the guards patrolling the front gate. I have a step on him as we head to the high tower where my father, the Wolf King, has his office.

“Is there any doubt?” I say with a carefree laugh, bursting through the wooden doors of the tower. “The Wolf King made his decision the second I emerged from the womb and let out a mighty howl.”

“More like a pathetic whimper while you pissed yourself,” Lucan says, grunting to try and catch up.

I leap onto the curling stone staircase and race up the tower. Lucan is right behind me.

“Whoever gets to the top first gets to be the next king,” I say, laughing as I turn the bend. A maid screams in fright, plastering herself against the wall as we run past her.

“I’ll take that deal,” Lucan says as I pass the stained-glass window of our grandfather, the great Wolf King Breyor. He ruled for four prosperous decades before he died and passed the throne onto his oldest son, Lucan’s father.

But Lucan’s father only lasted three years as the Wolf King of the Stormfur Realm before he unexpectedly died eight years ago when my cousin and I were six.

My uncle had barely begun his rule before an accident at sea took his life, along with the lives of both our mothers.

The ocean bordering our Western front turned rough and violent while my mother and the King and Queen were traveling up North.

No one on the ship survived that horrible day.

So, the crown passed to the last remaining heir, my father, Wolf King Axton.

He has been a good king. A fair king. A strong king.

The Stormfur Realm has been prosperous and safe during his rule.

King Alaric and his Moonborne Kingdom along our Eastern flank has respected our pack and our borders, and the human kingdom to the south has remained relatively peaceful.

My dad has done a good job. Better than my uncle would have done, no matter what Lucan has to say about it.

My heart is racing as I fly up the steps as fast as I can. Only one floor to go.

“Get ready to bow to the next king,” I say, laughing in triumph. “You have no chance.”

But Lucan rarely plays fair. He grabs my ankle and yanks it back. I stumble on the stairs, slamming my shin against the sharp stone step. He laughs as he pushes me down and races past me.

I curse and slam my fist into the stone, jumping up to catch him.

He arrives at my father’s office first, bursting through the giant wooden doors and stepping inside.

Lucan stops at the threshold of the office, clasping his hands behind his back and lowering his head—a sign of respect—although there’s no respect in my cousin. He looks at me over his shoulder with a malicious grin as I catch up.

I bump into him with my shoulder as I take the same pose—hands behind my back, head lowered in reverence.

“King Lucan,” he whispers. “I like the sound of that.”

“Never going to happen while I’m alive,” I whisper back.

I raise my head an inch and sneak a peek at my father.

He’s sitting on the other side of the vast room, speaking with his advisor amongst endless stacks of parchment.

That’s what the pups of the pack get wrong.

They think being a Wolf King is all danger and glory, when in reality, it is mostly meetings and paperwork.

My father’s eye meets mine and he gives me a wink. Lightness fills my chest. Pride surges through my veins as I stand a little taller.

I adore my father. Not only is he a great king, he is a wonderful dad. When I was a young pup, sitting on his shoulders as he marched through town, all of the pack showering us with smiles and kind words, I felt like the luckiest wolf shifter in the land.

“Boys,” he says, waving us in. “Join me.”

He turns his attention back to the parchment as his advisor finishes up, cleaning up the stack and taking it with him.

I look around the cavernous room, wondering if this office may be mine one day with the towering shelves of books lining the walls all the way up to the tall ceiling. A ceiling that is covered in a grand fresco of a gruesome ancient battle between my wolf ancestors and the barbarous humans.

A fire is raging in the massive stone fireplace, filling the room with the warm scent of burning wood and sending shadows flickering across the stone floor.

Lucan and I are subtly exchanging arm punches as we walk across the vast room. The old wrinkly advisor, Morrick, notices and gives us a disapproving frown as he passes us on the way to the door.

Lucan and I both drop to our knees in front of my father’s giant oak desk.

“The pack endures beneath you, my King,” we both say at the same time.

“As one, we endure,” he responds.

Lucan punches me hard in the ribs as we stand up. My father pretends not to see.

“I bet you’re both wondering why I summoned you here,” he says in his deep voice that has commanded wolves in every inch of his kingdom from here all the way to the northern border where the wolves live in snow.

Lucan and I both stand a little straighter. We know why we’re here. At least, we think we do.

We both turned fourteen a month ago, which marks the end of our youth. Now that we’re no longer pups, the King is able to choose one of us to be his successor.

Lucan thinks it will be him—Gods help us if he’s right. His father was the king before mine, and we both have the blood of the great Wolf King Breyor—our grandfather—running through our veins. Both of our claims to the throne are strong, but ultimately, it’s our alpha who makes the final decision.

“There is no right time to do this,” my father says, standing up and wandering to the window. “But as the death of my beloved brother has shown, the world can be cruel, and preparations must be made.”

I glance at Lucan as my father gazes out the window at his land. Lucan is barely breathing, standing as still as a corpse as he awaits his fate. He wants this badly. I know, because he’s been talking about it for years.

He wants the power that comes with the crown.

He wants to see the strongest, toughest shifters in the kingdom bowing before him.

He wants to be able to raise armies with a flick of his hand and unleash them on our peaceful neighboring kingdoms. He doesn’t even care about mates.

He wants a harem of women who are obligated to serve him.

I want to be king, but it’s not for any of those reasons. I just want to make my father proud. I want to be just like him.

“It is time to choose my successor,” he says, turning around with a sad look. This should be a happy announcement, but he’s looking at us like he’s about to curse us both.

The neglected one will be cursed with the pain of being passed over. The chosen one will have it even worse.

Still, we both want it.

“Lucan,” he says, his brown eyes softening as he looks at my cousin. “Your father’s rule was short. Too short. But even in such a short amount of time, he proved himself to be a great king. Full of wisdom and strength, I took no happiness in taking the crown from him.”

He sighs as he walks over to the fireplace.

He pulls out a thick branch from the pile of wood and cracks it easily over his knee.

I swallow hard as I watch the impressive display of strength.

My father must be the biggest, strongest wolf shifter in the kingdom.

If he chooses me to be the king after him, I don’t know how I’ll ever fill his big shoes.

With a heavy breath, he tosses the broken wood pieces into the fire and watches as the flames consume them.

“This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make,” he says, turning around to face us. “I may as well just say it.”

He looks at the golden crown sitting on his desk, all shiny in the firelight, the precious gems sparkling like they’re alive with magic.

His back straightens and he raises his chin. “Kieran will be the next Wolf King,” he says in an unflinching voice.

My legs go weak. I almost drop to the floor.

I will be the next king? Me?

A low growl rumbles out of Lucan’s throat. He is staring at my father defiantly.

“I wonder who my father would have chosen between the two of us,” he says, his eyes full of challenge and judgment. “His son, no doubt.”

My father takes a deep breath, looking crushed by all of this. “Maybe,” he whispers. “But unfortunately, we will never know, Lucan. And the decision is mine to make.”

Lucan grits his teeth.

“You will do your duty as a member of the royal family and as a member of the Stormfur pack,” my father says as my head spins. “You will serve your cousin to the best of your ability, and he, in turn, will take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” Lucan hisses in anger and disbelief.

My father turns to me, and my body flexes, my muscles tightening. I raise my chin when I see the pride in his eyes.

“Will you accept this terrible honor I bestow upon you?” he asks softly.

I think about it for a long moment. I don’t know if I can be as good a Wolf King as him, or my uncle, or my grandfather before them, but I’ll try my best. Every moment I wear that crown, I’ll try my best. For my destiny, for my family, for my pack, but most of all, for him.

All I want is to please my father. All I want is to make him proud.

“Yes, Father,” I say as I nod my head. “I will accept.”

Lucan spins on his heels and storms off. He shoves the doors open and disappears down the stairs.

“He’ll get over it eventually,” my father says, leaning on his desk. “I did.”

My stomach turns all quivery as the reality of what just happened sinks in. I’m going to be the next Wolf King. I’ll be in charge of everything.

I drop into the chair as my head spins.

“Are you okay, son?”

I swallow hard, my mind racing with terrible thoughts.

“Do you think I can do it, Father? Am I good enough?”

He lowers onto one knee in front of me, but he’s so large that his kind eyes are still level with mine. He takes my hand in his, swallowing it in his large palms.

“Like the Wolf Kings before you,” he says in a soft growly voice.

“You will give your people everything you have. The crown will test you like nothing else. It will require you to become the best version of yourself. It will take everything you have to give without mercy, without restraint, without gratitude. Now, are you good enough for this insatiable responsibility? That, my son, will be entirely up to you.”

I swallow hard as I look at the crown sitting on his desk. It’s way too big for me, literally and metaphorically. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to bear it.

“But Kieran,” he says, smiling softly. “When your time comes, I will be watching from Ulissa. And I will be rooting for you.”

I lunge onto him and wrap my arms around his solid muscular body, hugging him as tears run down my cheeks.

He exhales as he hugs me back, not as my king but as my father.

“Your mother would be so proud of you,” he whispers, and the tears come out harder. “Just as I am. You will make an excellent Wolf King.”

I lift my head, peeking over his shoulder at the giant crown that will one day rest on my head.

You will make an excellent Wolf King.

Gods, I hope he’s right.